The Color Of Love: A BWWM Billionaire Alpha Male Romance (9 page)

*****

Dating a rich
billionaire had its benefits but also its disadvantages. Over the
past three weeks, the newspapers had published several articles about
their suspected love affair and had printed photos that could be
misconstrued as romantic. Of course they were dating and the media
wanted news, but at Victoria’s request, Dawson kept the details
under wraps.

She decided to move
Palette to DMC Theater live because with all the increased work, she
needed the space. Abby had returned, but she alone wasn’t
enough to handle the volume and the women were forced to contract
several freelancers to work when deadlines were near.

Victoria would never
forget the day the whole ordeal started. It would be forever etched
in her mind forever. The virtual assistant had been replaced with a
live person in the small office next to the kitchen. She took and
scheduled all consultations before booking the client. On rare
occasions rush jobs were taken without meeting the person - there was
an extra fee attached of course.

On the day in
question, a woman by the name of Jasmine called to say she needed a
birthday cake for her friend who was turning twenty nine the next
day. She all but begged, saying the birthday girl’s wish was to
have a cake from Palette. Somewhere in the conversation she slipped
in finger foods and dessert and the green assistant grudgingly
obliged.

Now telling her
boss, Victoria, the news was going to be the trouble. The
conversation led to a two day suspension of the assistant and a
headache for Victoria. She never liked it when people superseded her
command and the assistant should have used her common sense in
booking the appointment.

After the dye was
cast, Victoria had no option but to follow through. Her rules had not
changed and once the person made the request she couldn’t turn
them down. The details were not that complicated anyway. The cake was
to be of a party scene with depictions of different alcoholic
beverages. On the top was a figurine of a long legged blonde model.
The words would read, happy birthday superstar. Fifty cupcakes
accompanied the main one with a similar pink and lilac color scheme
throughout.

Finger foods
consisted of spicy coconut shrimp along with grilled vegetable
skewers. Dessert was left up to Victoria and she chose Oreo
cheesecake topped with caramel. The decadence was enough to make the
guests lick their fingers.

The DMC Theater live
debuted a new play that night and all hands were on deck for the
presentation but Victoria had to make a delivery. Under Dawson’s
suggestion, there was a fee imposed for having her make guest
appearances. At one thousand dollars per hour, the fee was set to
deter the time wasters. Jasmine paid her fee upfront.

A suburb address was
provided and the delivery men with her in the new black van circled a
few times before finding the small cottage like house. Victoria got
out of the vehicle and opened the gate in the picket fence before
walking up the quaint cobblestone path to the stained wood front
door. After she knocked and waited, Victoria was greeted by a slender
raven haired girl who identified herself as Jasmine.

Shaking her hand
vigorously, Victoria introduced herself and gestured to the delivery
men that this was the spot. Quickly her team was directed inside to
the set up area on a back patio. The cake took center stage and the
other foods surrounded the display. Jasmine informed her that the
guest of honor would be there soon. This whole party was a surprise,
it appeared and Victoria was a part of the package.

Victoria’s
presence there was strictly to entertain. The shrimp had been cleaned
and marinated and the portable gas stove was set up and ready to
sizzle and pop just to make the guests go ‘ohh’ and
‘ahhh.’

The women in the
room were the blonde type even if physically their hair was
different. Victoria made a mental note to change her hair color. The
conversations ranged from, who wore what to the last affair to who
was dating whom. It was only later that it occurred to her that
Dawson’s name was never mentioned.

One slender girl
with deep dimples and wispy brown hair came running into the room
whispering, “She’s here!” And spontaneously the
others ran to hide. Victoria stayed put. Unassuming, the lady of the
hour walked onto the patio where everyone yelled, “Surprise!”
There were two people clutching their chest in shock at that moment-
Victoria and the woman they were all waiting for - Naomi.

The actress put on
her academy award winning face of gratitude and for a moment Victoria
thought she was going to give a speech. Instead, she graciously
accepted the tiara they placed on her head and wept. This was all too
much.

Victoria was a
master of many things and regaining composure quickly was one of
them. Her game face was on by the time Naomi noticed her and she was
ready for anything or so she thought. The same girl who announced her
arrival led her to the table where Naomi admired the cake first and
then acknowledged the chef second. With a drawl dripping with malice,
she announced, “Oh I know you! You are the girl who is screwing
my left overs.” Shrugging her shoulders, she added, “Typical
of your kind anyway.”

There was hot oil
and skewers within Victoria’s arm’s reach, but after
contemplating how messy either weapon would be, she decided against
injuring the foolish woman. With her face set stone cold, Victoria
stayed silent. People in the room giggled and someone suggested the
candles be blown out.

With a loud count to
three the crowd encouraged her to make a wish and the smoke was blown
directly in Victoria’s face. Naomi was unaware what a thin line
she was walking on.

“What did you
wish for Naomi?” Someone asked and she responded venomously,
“Just for world peace… the world would be such a great
place if people understood where they were on the totem pole. Don’t
you agree Victoria?”

Victoria was busy
coating the shrimp in their coconut batter and trying hard to be
professional. She dropped a small bit of the batter into the oil to
test how hot it was. The pot sang and sizzled. Victoria wondered just
how hot oil would melt this plastic bitch’s face.

Someone turned on
some soft music while the crowd gathered around Naomi and fussed over
her. Victoria concentrated on the frying of her shrimp. A girl they
called Joy announced that it was time to cut the cake and again the
crowd gathered around the table. The first deep slice of the cake ran
through the happy birthday and Victoria couldn’t help think
about how unhappy it was turning out. This was Dawson’s fault.

The intimate crowd
took their cupcakes and some brightly colored punch from a crystal
bowl and wandered back to their respective places. They were back in
minutes for the shrimp and after it was served, Victoria removed her
gloves and took out her cell to send a message. It was better to call
for help than to leave in a police car.

Naomi waited till
all left the table to get her serving of shrimp. She approached with
the same attitude she had before, nasty and calculating.

“So the cake
was ok, but I think I’ve had one from someone like you and it
was much better, you can do a bit more than sleeping your way to the
top. It’s a poor representation.” She paused, expecting
an answer, Victoria watched the bubbles around the shrimp with
interest, fantasizing. In minutes the seafood was ready and plopped
on her plate.

Taking the crispy
morsel from the plate, Naomi nibbled the well seasoned shrimp and
scrunched up her face before spitting it out, unfortunately, in the
face of an already angry Victoria. The punch coming toward Naomi’s
face was hot and hard and only by the grace of God did it not connect
with and break her jaw.

There was a hand
grasping Victoria’s fist - a pale hand. Victoria’s head
snapped around to see who had interrupted her WWF showdown. The crowd
held a collective gasp, watching the ordeal unfold.

With a yank,
Victoria found her hand pulled to her side while Dawson’s deep
voice ordered her to be cool. Growling in Naomi’s direction he
demanded, “What the fuck were you thinking? Did you think this
would win me back? And you drag my girlfriend and business partner
into it?”

Red as a beet Naomi
searched for words and only managed to cry, “She was going to
punch me didn’t you see that? You left me and picked up this…
this… cook who is possibly from the ghetto?”

Dawson was yelling,
“Jasmine… Jasmine… I know you are her minion and
all around Hench woman, did she put you up to this shit?”
Jasmine could be seen in a corner shivering. Her voice trembled as
she responded, “She said she wanted the woman on the cover of
last week’s social scene paper... I didn’t know the
connection… I swear.”

“You are a
fucking liar Jasmine; you know who is screwing who in Florida better
than anyone else. You and this wicked slut set this up didn’t
you?”

You could hear a pin
drop in the room. Victoria wiped the partially chewed seafood from
her face. She was convinced that they all knew. She knew this would
happen, she knew that letting Dawson take control of any part of her
life would lead to her being hurt. She could have been a fortune
teller.

Jasmine ran away
crying while Naomi held her ground. Victoria found herself agitated
that she had been drawn into this mess. She could have kept in her
corner and struggled with her little business alone. The rich people
seemed to think their money, status and color meant it all. Dawson
should have left her alone.

He was angrier than
she had ever seen and Naomi looked truly afraid for her life. The
other women there clung to each other while watching the exchange.
There was a knock on the door and the service men walked in to remove
the utensils and other things Victoria used to cook the meal. Dawson
angrily dashed the uneaten birthday cake and anything else on the
table straight to the floor and Naomi cried. “I wanted to have
the rest of my cake! What have you done? You are going to pay for
that Dawson.”

Grabbing Victoria’s
hand and exiting behind the delivery men, he hurled one final
statement, “I can afford it.”

It had been three
weeks since the cake throwing and Victoria had held her tongue still.
Many, many things crossed her mind since the fateful night and all of
them indicated she had made a bad decision in her life.

By now the staff
knew they were dating and the silence was thick whenever they were in
the same room together. He asked about business and she answered, but
said nothing more. She had washed her hands of that.

Abby could have been
nasty about the entire ordeal, but instead she clung to her best
friend’s side as she tried to heal from the wounds the rich had
inflicted. Remembering Timothy there, laying on the bed, she
remembered his final words to her. Selfishly caught up in her own
pain, Victoria realized she had never checked to see how he was
doing. She had, after all, changed her cell number and didn’t
remember to share it with his wife. Being caught up with money could
do that to a person.

The number was easy
to find and when Cherry answered the phone, Victoria knew she had
been crying. As it turned out, Timothy had died the week prior and
all Victoria could do was offer her condolences. The funeral had been
the day before. Florida, that once gave her so much happiness now was
filled with sorrow. Maybe it was time to move.

*****

Dawson needed to
talk with someone and though he was jaded and bitter, Uncle Thomas
was the closest father figure in his life. Sitting in the large
living room of the penthouse suite in one of his hotels was something
he enjoyed, but on this early morning as he and Uncle Thomas shared a
drink, his mood was dark. Of course he had other properties, but
there was no joy to be found in any of them when he felt so alone.

As the sun rose and
kissed the tops of the buildings, Dawson confided in his uncle. They
had gone to an art gallery opening and his arm felt naked without
Victoria. He sat on a chaise lounge sipping an amber ale while Dawson
gazed through the floor to ceiling glass panels separating them from
the world.

“How do you
win a woman back uncle? I can’t seem to figure it out.”

Uncle Thomas seemed
oblivious to the fact Dawson was suffering any kind of pain, sipped
heavily before asking casually, “Is this about the cook? I
thought you had moved on! So many women to choose from and you are
stuck on screwing the help.”

It was a bad idea to
ask this old troll anything. The only love he had in his heart was
for himself and alcohol. His uncle rose from the plush couch and
approached him. “Let me talk some sense into you son. In life
they are things and people you will encounter that are pretty to look
at and hold but they belong somewhere else. The girl has an ass and
tits out of this world, but she is the help Dawson, you need to get
over it and fast. She doesn’t belong in our circle.” He
paused to sip his drink before continuing, “You’ve been
charitable… given her a job and helped her with her own little
soup kitchen or whatever she runs… you have done your part.”

He ambled back to
his seat where he fell onto the couch, subsequently spilling his
drink. In minutes he was asleep, snoring loudly and Dawson’s
thoughts were more disturbed than before. Lighting a cigar he
wondered why he, America’s youngest and richest bachelor,
should be worrying over a woman. As the heavy fragrant smoke puffed
above his head, he answered his own question - he was in love with
her.

For the first time
in years, Dawson felt like crying and ambled sadly over to his grand
office and closed the door to drown out the old man’s snoring.
Sitting at his large oak desk, he took out a solid gold pen and white
sheets of paper monogrammed with the DCM logo. It was time to write
either a letter of dismissal or suspension. This matter of seeing her
every day without talking to her couldn’t go on. Now he
understood why playwrights penned such sorrowful scenes of love and
death because without her, he couldn’t exist.